-CHAPTER 5-STAY WITH ME-

… It was hard to believe he and Freja had been together almost ten years. They had been through enough already together. Johnny had a growth spurt when he was twelve and had been emaciated ever since. The other kids gave him hell at high school – even the ones who called themselves his friends joined in the sport. Whenever he asked them to stop they would tell him to harden up, not to be such a pussy. Only one person stood by him in the taunting, and she had been there since the start. She knew all his pains and welcomed them as her own. He'd had a few suicide attempts, but she seemed to know when he needed her. The last couple of times, the blade had been so close to the vein when the phone would ring. He let the answering machine pick it up, both times it was the same caller with the same message: "I know you're not okay, Johnny. Come over and see me. I'm always here for you, Nny. I'll never leave you, I promise." Freja knew not to come over when Johnny's father was around. She always told him that he could stay with her whenever his dad hit the bottle but for some reason he always declined.

Next week would be the tenth anniversary of his mother's death; the same day he met Freja, and his sixteenth birthday. His father always drank heavily around this time – even more than usual – he tended to remain at the pub for the next seven days. But not even Freja came around this time of the year – she knew that all Johnny would want to do is paint and he appreciated the solitude. Although she would always assure him that she's just a phone call away if he needed her.

Johnny had just had a moment of inspiration; as usual it was something Freja had said that made him thought of it. He had his brushes and easel set up, his mind clear, ready to make the first mark on the canvas when the phone rang. Shit he thought. Just leave it, they'll hang up. Without thinking, he placed the brush down and picked up the cordless.

"Johnny!" Freja whispered on the other end of the line. "I need you… Mum… Dad… They're– Oh, God he's found me... Johnny!" she manages to scream before her voice is silenced by a muffled thud and Johnny is instantly worried. He drops the phone and runs through the house, stopping at the small cabinet in the lounge – Dad has always hid his gun here. He opens the top drawer with a quick jolt and snatches up the revolver, running to the door.

The front door of Freja's house is ajar, Johnny pushes it open with the barrel of the gun to see the hallway and it's adjoining rooms in disarray. Following the sounds of Freja's desperate screams, he passes the master bedroom. Freja's father lay crumpled on the floor in the doorway in a pool of blood, emptied from his own carotid artery. Her mother lay on the bed, nightgown torn, a single stab-wound to her bare chest – clearly the motive was sexual. Freja's cries snapped Johnny out of his horror and he continued towards the bathroom at the rear of the house.

Johnny instantly recognized his father squatting over Freja's body as she thrashed in protest. Without hesitation, Johnny cocked the hammer and raised the gun, resting the barrel a hairs-breadth from the base of the vile man's neck. Carefully positioning it to avoid hitting Freja when the bullet exits it's target, he pulled the trigger. With all the adrenaline pounding through his ears, Johnny barely heard the crack as his father fell. He slowly lowered the colt, dropped it to the floor, and proceeded to drag the corpse off of Freja and attempted to assess her injuries. With fear still clouding her judgment, she clawed at him weakly as he tried to comfort her.

"It's alright, Fray, it's me. It's Johnny. It's your Nny. It's over, he can't hurt you anymore…" he whispered, trying to gently restrain her. After a while, her complaints ceased and she collapsed into tears against his chest. For what seemed like an entire age, Johnny sat with her in silence, rocking her, occasionally stroking her hair and kissing her forehead, assuring her that she was safe. After she had calmed down, he convinced her to return home with him, to stay away from the gore and terror of it all. "You can have a shower if you want, borrow some clothes. I'm not leaving you on your own, not like this…"

Freja sniffed and nodded slightly in reply, her throat was so raw she was unable to utter a sound.

Leaving the revolver on the floor, Johnny helped her stand. The cops can find it, I don't care. He used his body as a screen to shield her from the sight of her parents as he guided her through the house. At the front door, he removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders to keep her warm and dignified as they crossed the street.

Freja ran straight to the bathroom and jumped in the shower, desperate to physically clean herself of the metaphorical filth. Johnny paced the hallway, running over the events in his mind, he soon realized Freja had forgotten to get a towel. He stopped at the hot water cupboard and grabbed a long dark-blue towel from the top of the stack and knocked on the bathroom door.

"You forgot your towel…" Shit, that sounded like an excuse… he added quietly to himself. "I mean…"

"You can come in, Johnny, you've seen me naked anyway," she replied, almost cheerfully.

He turned the knob and entered, intending only to reach in and leave the towel draped over the sink. He withdrew his hand and made to close the door.

"Please stay," she whispered, her cheerful charade fading. "I need someone to talk to…"

He stepped in and sat next to the towel on the edge of the sink. "Okay, I'm here, I'm listening." He looked around, as though this place was new to him and noticed through a void in the blue curtain, that the water running into the drain was pink. "Are you..?" he stood up and pulled back the curtain to see that Freja was scrubbing her skin raw, in some places, even causing herself to bleed. "Oh, Fray…" he held out his arms invitingly.

She threw down the loofah and melted into his arms awkwardly. "I can't get him off me…" she sobbed.

Johnny stepped up into the shower and held her tightly, ignoring the scalding-hot water she had been using. When he caressed her cheek she looked up into his eyes. He wiped away the tears that were mixing with the falling water and kissed her lovingly. She rested her head on his chest and he whispered, "Stay with me. I promise I'll protect you…"

Johnny bolted upright – he had fallen asleep on the couch. "Stay with me…" he said aloud, and closed his eyes.

"I tried…" Freja's voice answered him.

Opening his eyes he saw, wrapped around the trigger of the revolver, the gold chain of the locket.